While you (weren't) sleeping
by garden lover
Summary: Enjolras is not a coward. He's just very bad with feelings. E/R. Modern AU.


"You're absolutely impossible," Enjolras said, in a low voice.

Grantaire was finally asleep and he didn't want to wake him up.

"And frustrating. Very, very frustrating," he continued. "And a terrible patient."

Earlier that day, Cosette had shoved a soup container in his hands and told him to take it to Grantaire. Enjolras obeyed, mostly because she hadn't given him any opportunity to protest, but also because her soup was magic and would make anyone feel better.

The problem was that Grantaire was miserable when sick. Enjolras just hadn't had the occasion to appreciate the fact before.

When he had opened the door, Grantaire looked like he had been on a bender, on a losing fight and through finals all in the same day. His mood wasn't any better.

Enjolras wasn't any good at being a caretaker, but Grantaire was a close friend and he was not going to let him wallow in self-pity alone. He talked Grantaire in going back to bed and helped him eat the soup. He even played Disney movies for him, since Grantaire moaned from under a pile of blankets that they were the only thing capable of restoring his desire to live.

Grantaire was being very melodramatic. He was also incapable of remembering more than five minutes of plot and kept complaining about nothing making sense.

Still, the cuddling was nice.

Enjolras felt daring and safe enough to caress Grantaire's hair. He hummed softly, clearly enjoying the gesture.

"But back to the frustrating thing. It's only because you're so smart. And you like to shove it in my face, how smart you are, but only to disagree with me." Enjolras stared at the ceiling, with a sigh. "And it's hard. Combeferre says I shouldn't be so harsh with you, that I should find another way to interact, but it's hard loving you and you... I have no idea how you feel, you-"

Enjolras looked down at Grantaire and froze.

Grantaire was looking back, eyes wide open.

"What are you talking about?" he mumbled, voice thick with sleep. "You love me?"

Enjolras was not a coward. He talked back to professors and authority figures and in front of crowds. He had faced police charges without a hint of fear. Hell, he had even stared down Éponine and survived.

However, when faced with Grantaire and the mix of accusation and disbelief in his voice, there was only one thing he could do.

He ran.

* * *

"Oh my God," Courfeyrac hid his face in his hands, "I can't believe you did that. You're a complete idiot."

Combeferre stared at Enjolras, eyebrows slightly raised. "I'm going to have to agree with Courfeyrac in this one. That was an idiotic move."

Enjolras groaned. His friends were supposed to show support in his hour of need, not be vaguely disappointed and mocking.

"I panicked, okay? And," he said, trying to cheer himself up a bit, "maybe he won't remember it happened?"

Courfeyrac facepalmed again.

Combeferre gave him a pointed look. "Enjolras, you have never been a coward. Don't start now. Besides, I have been telling you to be honest with Grantaire from the start. Maybe it's time you listen."

"What he said," Courfeyrac agreed.

Enjolras huffed in frustration. "You don't understand. The way he was looking at me, it was like that was the worst possible thing I could say to him."

"Not the _worst_ thing, I'm sure," Courfeyrac sounded puzzled. "There are plenty of worst things you could say. You may have, with the way you too are always disagreeing."

"I think the problem is that you have never been particularly nice to him before," Combeferre said.

Enjolras felt ashamed at that. The only defence he could muster was weak. 'I thought that would make it easier' wasn't much of an excuse.

"Well, you two have never been friendly, have you?" Courfeyrac spoke softly. "No wonder Grantaire was surprised. Also, he was sick. No one thinks straight when they have a cold," he added. "And I know for a fact he is an awful patient." He seemed to shudder at the memory.

"So, his horror was just a misunderstanding? Is that what you're saying?"

"No. What Courfeyrac means is you should speak to Grantaire. Preferably once is feeling better." Combeferre paused and offered Enjolras another pointed look, "And be honest."

Enjolras sighed. Combeferre was right, of course. He should have been honest with Grantaire once he had realized what he felt wasn't just a passing crush, instead of trying to push him away.

But, to be honest, he had never been good when dealing with his romantic feelings.

Éponine called him later that day.

"What did you say to Grantaire? Because I came home and he was bawling his eyes out."

"What? He was crying? Why? I didn't mean for him to hear-"

"Oh my God," she sounded a lot like Courfeyrac in that moment. "Did you really confess your feelings because you thought he was asleep, rom-com style?"

"I-" Enjolras winced. "Maybe," he admitted.

"That's pathetic."

"Was he really that upset?"

"Oh, don't worry." Éponine didn't sound accusatory anymore. Just very amused. "He was high on cold meds and sad movies. Having to get out of bed would have made him cry."

"That's... good, I guess." Enjolras wasn't very convinced.

"You should wait a couple of days before talking to him, though. Phlegm covered sex isn't very fun."

"What are you-?"

"See you later." And Éponine hung up.

Enjolras stared at the phone's screen for a long while. Éponine wasn't one to be mindlessly cruel. At least, not to people who hadn't offended her. And Enjolras was reasonably sure he hadn't.

Still, he was having a hard time imagining how sex entered the equation.

* * *

Enjolras did in fact wait two days before going to see Grantaire. Mostly out of cowardice, he was sad to admit.

He did a good job avoiding most of his friends during that time. They all knew what had happened and kept acting as if they had a big secret they couldn't tell him. Enjolras knew there was something he was missing, some important information, but he didn't try very hard to find out.

He wasn't sure if thinking he might have a chance was better or worse than having none.

This time, when opening the door, Grantaire looked good. A bit tired, maybe, with red-rimmed eyes, but good.

"Enjolras! I was warned you might show up," he greeted. "Please, come in." He gestured for Enjolras to follow him inside.

"How are you feeling? Better?" Enjolras asked. He felt nervous and sweaty, with butterflies in his stomach. On the whole, he felt like a bad cliché.

"So nice of you to ask! Yes, all the bad humours have left me and I'm restored to my excellent, former health, blah, blah, blah. That's not why you came here." Grantaire sat down on the couch. He didn't extend an invitation for Enjolras to do the same. That, and the fact that he kept looking in Enjolras' direction but not at him, weren't helping him feel more at ease.

Maybe that was the point.

"I wanted to apologize for what I said. And running away after. That was, erm," Enjolras should have rehearsed better. All words were fleeing his mind, "rude of me, I guess. I'm sorry."

"You said it was hard. Loving me. That's what you said." Grantaire was staring at the wall now, arms crossed defensively across his chest.

It was just like him, to object to the part Enjolras didn't know how to respond. The feeling he was missing something kept gnawing at him.

"Well, yes, it is." He looked at his shoes. They were plain and black and not worth the attention he was paying them right now. "That's how unrequited love feels, you know. It's..." he trailed off, uncomfortable. Enjolras had never, ever liked to talk about feelings. Especially his own.

"Is that what you meant? Unrequited?" Grantaire had stood up and was getting close. It took all of Enjolras willpower to look at his face, but there was nothing to fear. There was something gentle and hopeful in Grantaire's expression, a shy smile dancing in his lips.

Enjolras found words impossible and simply nodded instead.

Grantaire pressed their hands together and pulled him to the couch.

"Say it again."

For a moment, Enjolras didn't know what Grantaire wanted him to say. However, he only had to see the way Grantaire was lacing their fingers and how his smile, while remaining shy, was also something real and tangible, to understand.

"Oh." There were many things to put in perspective. But that could wait. "I love you." Enjolras smiled and kissed Grantaire. "I love you," he repeated.

"I love you too," Grantaire said. They kissed again.

Grantaire's lips were soft, his skin warm. Enjolras wished they could stay like this forever, just kissing and holding hands.

It was not meant to be, because Grantaire was soon breathless and the kiss ended.

"Sorry. I may have been exaggerating when I said I was in good health. Breathing is not yet fully operational," he explained. He remained very close, though.

Enjolras grinned. "It's all right." He caressed Grantaire's cheek, feeling light headed and taking in the way Grantaire closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. His grin faltered a little. "I think there are a lot of things he should talk about."

Grantaire groaned and hid his head on Enjolras' shoulder. "Must we?"

"Yes. It's important. It doesn't have to be all at once, nor right now, but there are matters to address."

"I warn you it might be hazardous to my recovery. Joly advised against any type of exertion."

"Be serious." Enjolras shoved Grantaire a little, so they were looking face to face. "Please?"

Grantaire took a deep breath and visibly swallowed whatever sarcastic retort he was about to come up with. "Fine. But just one issue."

"Fair enough."

They shifted a bit, so they were sitting sideways on the couch, facing each other. It wasn't very comfortable, but they were still holding hands and their knees were pressed together, so neither one cared.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Enjolras started. "Because I'm a workaholic, a stubborn dick, as I've been reliable informed, and never had a relationship that didn't crash and burn in under two weeks."

"Well, I'm a borderline alcoholic, an unrepentant cynic and, thanks to my decision to study art, my future is comprised of low paying retail jobs as far as the eye can see." Grantaire gave him a crooked smile. "Saying that, if you can put up with me, I think I can put up with you. Deal?"

Enjolras snorted. "That solves nothing." Before Grantaire could show any dismay at that answer, he added, "But I'll take you up on that offer." And kissed him again.


End file.
